


The Coffee

by Ingrid_Blair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-24 19:35:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22283314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingrid_Blair/pseuds/Ingrid_Blair
Summary: Ginny slurps at her coffee, belatedly remembering she's not alone. Worse, she's not even in her own apartment. She's sitting at someone else's kitchen table, slurping.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	The Coffee

Ginny slurps at her coffee, belatedly remembering she's not alone. Worse, she's not even in her own apartment. She's sitting at someone else's kitchen table, slurping. She feels a flush come up her cheeks, but before she can apologize there's a little chuckle, a pleased little hmm, and Luna says, "I like you."

Ginny looks up from her cup, feeling completely clumsy and stupid. "What?" she asks.

Luna looks up from rearranging her bottles of essential oils, tilts her head to the side. "What, what?" she replies.

Ginny scrunches her face, oh god she doesn't want to ask but she's never been good at holding her tongue and "whatdoyoulikeaboutme" sort of tumbles out before she's really given herself permission to say it. Shit. She's pretty embarrassed, but she guesses the stakes are pretty low here, they're just hanging out, this is actually the first time one of them has even spent the night. The first morning they've woken up tangled together, sleepy eyed and a bit awkward.

Honestly, Ginny is confused. Luna is... well, she's confusing, for starters, all tangled blonde hair and smelling of eucalyptus and sandalwood or some shit, always talking about rising signs and Latin etymology and the health benefits of turmeric. Ginny has never even heard half the words Luna says, God, she doesn't mean to stare so much but she literally doesn't know what Luna is talking about, like, eighty percent of the time. But she knows what she likes about Luna. The messy bun, the yoga body, the big blue eyes: Luna's a hottie, basically. That makes Ginny some sort of dumb jock, but. Yeah. That fits. 

What she doesn't get, just like really cannot comprehend, is what Luna is getting out of this. A good lay, sure, Ginny knows she's good; she's known she's into girls since high school so it's not like she hasn't had years of practice. A fit body, yeah, twice daily workouts and the team nutritionist have their side benefits. But surely someone like Luna is... above that kind of thing? Ginny half suspects Luna has read some tea leaves or mapped their auras and decided they're color compatible or something. Just. What is going on here. 

Ginny glances up, across the table to where Luna continues to move tiny glass bottles back and forth. "What are you doing with those?" she asks, thinking maybe they can pretend the last ten seconds or so just never happened. 

"Oh, just letting the oils pick their families," Luna replies, as though essential oils or glass bottles or any inanimate object, really, has an ability to choose its own family. 

"I like your hands," Luna adds, looking up with that expression she gets sometimes, like she's suddenly focused her considerable energy exclusively on Ginny. It's alarming. 

"My hands?" Ginny repeats dumbly.

"Your hands," Luna replies, going still and now just staring at Ginny. "They're pretty. And I like your job," she adds, an afterthought, as she nudges a glass bottle towards a group of three, tilting her head and watching it closely.

"My job?" Ginny says, feeling like a parrot but also like this is finally some familiar territory, like, yeah, she's a professional soccer player, her job is objectively pretty cool, people like that athlete shit. She's weirdly disappointed to hear Luna say it, though, hadn't pegged her for a fangirl. 

Then again, this is only the third date, if you could even call it that, Ginny had texted her usual "what are you up to", really the height of wit there, and Luna had replied with "making rainbow pasta and stewing denim, want to come over," and despite having no idea what that meant, Ginny did. Turns out it meant literally a pot of denim on the stove and ribbons of handmade lasagna noodles in all colours of the rainbow hanging on every surface in the kitchen. Luna isn't normal. 

Anyway, they hadn't really discussed soccer, so much as progressed directly to the bed, so. Ginny guesses she's bagged herself another fan. Whatever. It's a job perk, it's fine. 

"Mmhmm," Luna continues, as Ginny takes a sip of coffee, "you landscape, right? Because you smell like grass. I find it soothing."

Ginny inhales coffee instead of air, chokes a bit and gives in to a giggle. God, Luna is weird. She likes it, though. She really, really likes it. When she recovers enough to look up, Luna is looking back at her, one corner of her mouth tilted up in a smile. 

"Stay for breakfast?" she asks. Ginny smiles back, reaching for her coffee and settling back in her chair, letting her foot drift up to nudge Luna's shin. She thinks she might stay all day.


End file.
